by K. E. Saxon
She did not awaken.
Sighing, Daniel placed the cup back on the table. ‘Twas clear she’d been weeping, for her cheeks were streaked with dried tears and her dark lashes were spiked with them. He wondered again what had upset her so. His lips thinned. If one of his clansmen was fool enough to let slip to her the MacPherson’s threat of attack, he’d sentence the man to nine months hard labor.
Once her shivers subsided, he rose with her still in his arms and walked to the bed. With care, he placed her on the woolen covering before bending to the task of unlacing the ties at her side that held her gown in place. He drew the heavy velvet down and away from her in slow increments, until, finally, only her sheer undergarment remained.
Daniel’s blood pulsed, his gaze riveted. Jutting against the fine material of her chemise, two rosy peaks teased. His cock lengthened, grew heavy as he imagined weighing those sweetly-curving mounds in his hands, feeling the texture of their tightened crests against his tongue.
As if she’d read his lust-filled thoughts, his bride rolled to her side, covering her breasts with her arm.
Clamping his eyes shut, Daniel gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn away. Arrghh! He must surely be the lowest base-born lecher for even contemplating doing such things to his virginal bride while she so soundly, so innocently, slumbered. He’d promised his father-in-law that he’d treat her gently, and he would do no less. ‘Twas clear to him now that she was exhausted from all the events of the past days, else surely she would have awakened as he carried her, or spoke to the maid, or undressed her—especially as he undressed her. But, she had not, and that could only mean that she was in desperate need of rest, not further exercise.
He sighed. ‘Twould be many long hours of waiting for tomorrow night, when they would at last consummate their union. He turned and gazed upon her sleeping form once more. But for this night he would at least have the pleasure of holding her in his arms.
Quickly undressing down to his braies, Daniel lay down next to his lovely bride and rolled onto his side. With an arm around her middle, he pressed her against him, holding her close. She fit so perfectly there, as if they were two sides of the same coin. On the cusp of that thought, she wriggled in her sleep, nudging his still turgid arousal. Daniel sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth as cold sweat formed on his skin. With a groan of delighted agony, he buried his face in the silken mass of dark bronze tresses and breathed deeply of its fragrance. Wild honeysuckle.
Carnal visions ran through his mind as he held her. Of cupping her full breasts in his hands, causing their rosy peaks to stiffen as he teased them with his fingertips through the thin material of her chemise. Of pleasuring that other peak between her thighs in the same way until he felt the dampness, the proof of her own desire for him, seeping through the warm silk. What would her face, her form, reveal when she gained her utmost pleasure for the first time? His manhood jerked against her buttocks and a groan erupted from his throat.
Blood of Christ! It took the effort of a saint, but he managed to roll to his other side and leave her be. He must turn his mind to other matters or he’d be forced to take a swim in the cold loch. So, he began a mental list of all his warriors. In alphabetical order. Backwards.
It took several hours, but at last he succumbed to sleep. And dreamed of slingshots, honeysuckle, and warm, willing woman.
*
Maryn awoke late the next morn. Disoriented, she searched the chamber for clues to where she was and how she’d come to be there. As she wakened more fully, she began piecing together the events of the previous eve. She’d gone to the stables to calm her troubled mare. After soothing her pet, she’d succumbed to her own fears and worries and allowed the tears to flow unchecked until exhaustion had overtaken her and she’d fallen asleep in the stall with Fia. She’d had a dream about being a bairn caught in an ice storm and a red-haired giant had saved her.
Hmmm. A red-haired giant….
Daniel must have brought her here. After finding her asleep under a smelly horse blanket. Heat shot into her cheeks. He must truly think her daft now. Groaning, she tossed the woolen bed covering over her head.
After another moment of wallowing in the depths of humiliation, she slid the covering from her face and scanned the room once more. So, this is the laird’s bedchamber. Her gaze landed on the hearth. The tiles beneath it were beautifully made and there was a large chair made of dark wood positioned just outside of them. A flash-memory of warmth, of comfort, as if arms enfolded her, made her spring up in alarm. Her horrified gaze flew to the pillow next to hers and her stomach did an instant flip-flop. There, dead center, a head-shaped indention marred its plane. He must have slept in the same bed with her!
A cold draft chilled her skin and she made a grab for the woolen bed covering, but her hand froze mid-flight. She dropped her gaze to her torso. Ohmygod. She wore only her chemise. Her very transparent chemise. The one her mother had worn on her own wedding night. Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She had forgotten she’d put the thing on prior to the ceremony. It had been put away in a chest as part of her trousseau and she thought it fitting that she wear it for her own new husband.
On the cusp of that thought, came another, more troubling one: Had he bedded her while she slumbered?
Nay, surely not. She had none of the soreness that her maid—who’d been given the information by their cook—had said she would feel after the first time. Maryn anxiously studied the bed linens. There was no blood, either. She breathed a great sigh of relief, convinced that naught more than slumber had occurred in this bed the night before.
Maryn rose at last and strolled to the window. The sun was high in the sky. It must be quite late in the morn. Her stomach growled. And she was famished. Thinking this would be a good time to acquaint herself with the kitchen staff, she began her morning ablutions.
She had just finished dressing and braiding her hair when Daniel opened the door and strolled inside. Maryn turned at the sound and, seeing her husband, became inordinately shy. She dropped her gaze to the floor. “Good morn to you, husband.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Daniel smiled at her. “Good morn, Maryn. By the youthful bloom on your cheeks, I surmise you must have slept well. Did you?”
She nodded. “Aye, quite well.” Nervously clearing her throat, she continued, “And you as well?”
“Aye. Tho’ I’m sure I shall sleep even more soundly this eve,” he said obliquely as he moved to stand directly in front of her. Then he lifted her chin with the curve of his fingers and kissed her. Softly, gently at first. Only taking light sips, as if her lips held some sweet nectar he craved.
She quivered in reaction.
He groaned. Bringing his hand up, he held the back of her head as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, drawing her against him. He deepened the kiss then, stroking his tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opened for him. He delved inside, learning her, tasting her.
Maryn could not catch her breath. This man, this stranger, her husband, seemed to control some hidden string inside her and with each stroke of his tongue, he tugged that string and muscles deep down inside her, in her secret, most feminine place, which until this day past she had not even been aware she had, tightened. ‘Tis the place he will enter you.
But not yet.
Maryn broke away from his embrace.
Daniel ran a shaky hand through his hair. His breathing ragged, he walked to his chest and opened it. “I’ve a gift for you, Maryn. I hope you find it to your liking.”
Surprise and giddy curiosity produced a starburst of warmth in her breast.
Daniel brought the gift out and held it up for her inspection.
Maryn gasped in pleasure. ‘Twas a beautifully filigreed silver girdle. “‘Tis exquisite, Daniel. The finest I’ve seen.”
Rising to his feet, he returned to stand before her. “It belonged to my mother. ‘Twould please me greatly to see you wear it,” he said softly as he handed her th
e piece. “This and a handful of other jewels are all that I have left of my mother’s legacy.”
Warmed by the precious gift, Maryn fastened the girdle around her waist, allowing it to fall loosely over the ridge of her hips. “I thank you. I shall wear it gladly.” She stroked the cool metal, admiring the intricate design. It shone with a magnificent brilliance against the aquamarine color of her gown. Surely the gift was an indication that Daniel harbored some tender feelings for her, else he would not have bestowed something so cherished. In that instant, her own attraction to the mysterious, mighty laird deepened, became less fearful.
Maryn felt Daniel’s gaze on her as she admired the girdle. “How are you feeling this morn?” he asked. “You could have caught a fever, running out in the cold without a cloak as you did this night past.” He took another step closer and rested his hands on the curve of her shoulders. “Why did you leave the hall in such a rush, Maryn?”
She captured his gaze and smiled at him. “I’m feeling quite fit, fear not. ‘Twas Fia, my mare, that sent me fleeing. She is not accustomed to her new surroundings, nor to being handled by new hands. She was causing a clamor and I am the only one that can calm her.” Maryn looked at the girdle once again, fingering it as she continued, “I should have come in when I became so weary. I did not mean to worry you.”
“And the tears?”
Her eyes widened. Oh, dear. She felt heat flush her cheeks. “Tears?”
“Aye, they streaked your cheeks and dampened your lashes.”
She made a dismissing motion with her hand, but her heart was pounding with embarrassment. “Oh those. Exhaustion, I fear.”
The smile he gave her told her he was satisfied with her answer. “Ah. Well, I should not have lingered so long with my lieutenant, else I’d have no doubt realized your fatigue and brought you to our chamber sooner.”
The roar of Maryn’s stomach growling filled the air between them. Mortified, she pretended she had not heard the ruckus.
Her husband was not so mannerly. He laughed. “Come, bride. I think it time I get you fed.”
*
Daniel had eaten earlier, so he asked for only a goblet of wine for himself once they were settled at the table. It did not take long, however, for him to see that Maryn would not relax and enjoy her meal unless he partook of the fare with her. “Have you yet decided upon your first task as mistress of the keep?” he asked, before lifting a bite of cheese to his mouth.
“Aye, I would like to meet the kitchen staff. And then I shall acquaint myself with your fortress.”
Daniel nodded. “I have some business to attend. Shall I show you to the kitchens beforehand?”
“Nay, I do not wish to delay you. Only give me the direction and I shall find my way.”
*
After completing their morning meal, Maryn followed the route Daniel had given her. Feeling more optimistic, she hummed as she moved along. Just as she strolled through the door of the kitchen, a yellow-haired lad came tearing around the long, knife-scarred table in the center of the chamber and nearly knocked her over in his flight to leave.
A large woman of middle age with her veil askew, whom Maryn assumed was the cook, attempted to run him to ground. “Alleck, get yourself back here and put those bannock cakes back in the bowl!”
Unable to right herself on her own, Maryn grabbed for the nearest object, which turned out to be the cook. They both went flying, with Maryn hitting her head on the corner of the table on the way down.
She shook the swimming spots from her eyes as she gained her feet in a rolling motion. The cook had a harder time rising, however, so Maryn helped her stand. The lad slunk back into the kitchen as Maryn stood rubbing her abused noggin and hip. By the slump in his shoulders and the defeated look on his face, she knew he was expecting a scolding.
The cook shot over to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the table. “See you what your mischief has caused? You’ve hurt the laird’s new wife on her first full day as mistress! Now, put those bannock cakes back and stay out of the kitchen. Run home and let your mother put you to work helping her.”
The lad’s lip quivered. “My pardon, Cook. I just wanted to take this cake to my friend, Coby. He’s not feelin’ good, and he likes your bannock cakes a lot.” He turned to Maryn then, his chin on his chest. “Beg pardon, Mistress, for makin’ you fall down an’ hurt your head.”
Maryn, wanting a better look at his face, and recognizing something of her own childhood in the situation, knelt in front of the tow-headed bairn. He was a handsome lad and kind-hearted as well. “Now, laddy, you are not to trouble yourself that you’ve caused me any permanent damage. I’m a strong Highlander and I can take a lot worse than a little knock on the head. My pride’s the only thing that’s bruised where the fall is concerned and I’ll be getting over that soon, I’m sure, so run along and help your mama.”
The cook turned to greet a young kitchen maid who’d just come in with a basket of fresh-cut kale. While her back was turned, Maryn seized two bannock cakes and gave them to the lad with a wink and a shove to get him moving out the door before the cook discovered his largesse.
After Maryn formally met the head of the kitchen and the other cook staff, she left by the back door, which led to the storeroom, which led to the courtyard. She was determined to memorize the layout of the keep by nightfall.
*
Daniel stood with Murray in the courtyard. “Have the scouts seen any sign of the MacPhersons?
“Nay, not yet. I must say, ‘tis relieved I am that they chose not to attack last eve during your wedding feast, as we feared. ‘Twould surely have brought your wedding night to a much less gratifying end, I trow.”
Daniel smiled wryly. The man had no idea how few were the desires he’d had gratified the night before. “Aye, ‘tis a blessing, that.”
Jesslyn, the widow of his best friend, Graeme, and now his own ex-betrothed, came through the gate of the keep just then, and Daniel waved her over.
“What brings you? Need you some fresh malt for your ale?”
“Nay, I’ve come to see how you fare this morn after last eve’s festivities,” she replied.
“I’m expected on the training field,” Murray said and nodded to the two before walking off toward his destination.
“I fare well.” He took hold of her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I meant what I said this day past: I shall take care of you and Alleck; you shall want for naught. This, I swear to you. For you are my dearest friend and Alleck is like a son to me.”
The tension lines around her mouth eased and her smile gentled. “Aye, I know. I fully believe you will not forsake us.”
“And you understand why I felt impelled to agree to this bargain with the Macleans and Donalds?”
She sighed. “Aye, I do. I am at peace, worry not. Ours was not a love match. My heart is not in tatters, fear you not.” She turned her gaze to the door of the keep. “And your bride? How does she fare?”
Relieved that his dear friend seemed to be taking this change so well, Daniel shrugged. “The journey here tired my bride more than I’d realized,” he answered at last. With a sigh he said, “‘Twas a rather chaste wedding night, I fear.”
“She is young. She will recover quickly.”
“Aye, I’m sure you are right.”
Jesslyn strolled toward the well.
Daniel followed.
After a few paces, Jesslyn stepped on the edge of a stone and stumbled, accidentally falling against Daniel. “Ow!” She hopped on one foot and rubbed her ankle. “That was graceless of me!” she said, laughing.
*
Maryn wandered around the corner of the chapel back into the courtyard, thoroughly engrossed in studying the architecture of the keep and trying to learn where all the doorways led. ‘Twas a blessing that she’d first be handling the running of the Maclean estate, she decided. For surely that would prepare her for her eventual duties here. And she’d have friends close by during their time on t
hat holding as well, a fact that soothed her greatly now.
Jolted from her thoughts by the high-pitched sound of a woman’s raised voice, Maryn darted a glance in that direction. Her eyes widened as she watched Daniel lift a lady, flaxen-haired and quite beautiful, into his arms.
On impulse, Maryn took a step toward the two, but stopped short of taking another. ‘Twould be better to witness them together when they were unaware of an audience. Then, mayhap, she would gain the truth of the nature of her husband and the blonde’s relationship.
As she studied them further, A sense of doom filled her breast, for ‘twas evident as sunlight on a snow covered crest that this was no innocent encounter. Nay, theirs was a tender bond. Why else would they touch so often and laugh so well together?
*
Still laughing at her own clumsiness, Jesslyn shook her head as she held tight to Daniel and rested her cheek on his shoulder. “This is quite humiliating. My son will no doubt enjoy giving me the same lecture I give to him about being more careful when he sees me in this condition.”
“I’d best take you back to your cottage. You need to rest that ankle awhile,” Daniel said as he strode toward the gatehouse. “I shall send a maid to help you with your chores.”
“If I had known you would give me a maid, I would have sprained my ankle more often,” Jesslyn teased.
Daniel laughed and kissed her cheek. “Graeme warned me of your lazy side, but I did not believe him until this moment.”
Jesslyn slapped his arm in mock ire and then laughed as well.
*
Maryn’s humors sunk even lower as she watched the pair depart through the gate of the fortress. A sharp pain pierced through the center of her heart and it made it hard to breathe. She clenched her teeth against the sudden need to weep as the bright feelings of hope she’d been enjoying since receiving her husband’s gift that morn dimmed, became tarnished.
On numb limbs, she turned and walked back into the shadow of the chapel and rested her shoulders against its side with her hands splayed behind her on the cool stone wall. Who was she? Daniel’s lady love?